


continuum

by Penthos



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Fighting, Gunplay, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-29 18:34:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6388108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Penthos/pseuds/Penthos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A continuous sequence in which adjacent elements are not perceptibly different from each other, but the extremes are quite distinct.</p>
            </blockquote>





	continuum

This is a bad idea, Matt thinks. This is a terrible idea. The hum of the engine is the only noise aside from the soft directions from Matt, and he can feel that Frank is itching to break the silence, can hear the way his fingers tap on the steering wheel and his jaw clenches and unclenches. They keep driving. 

"Here," Matt says finally and the car slows to a stop. Frank gets out without a word. Matt follows. They still haven't broken the tight silence by the time they get up to Matt's apartment, and it's only when the door closes behind them that Matt starts to really regret his decision. 

"Why am I here, Red?" Frank says and he sounds tired. Matt's hands twitch.

"You need a place to lie low for a while. I figured they'd have your apartment on watch at the very least and we have no idea how many more of them there are."

"What I mean is why are you helping me?" Frank sits on the couch with a grunt and Matt hesitates before flicking on the lights. 

"It feels like the right thing to do," He says after a pause. Frank scoffs which Matt chooses to ignore as he sits opposite him. He's still wearing the suit and Frank's still covered in blood and it's making him feel jumpy, restless as if needs to be out of this room, out of his own skin. He can feel electricity hum in the air and wonders if it's him or the lights. 

"Fine, you keep telling yourself you're doing the right thing, I won't tell your priest, if that's what you're worried about." 

A muscle in Matt's jaw twitches but he ignores it. He changes the subject.

"Some of those cuts seem bad, I've got bandages and-"

"Still trying to help me, Jesus Christ. Cut the act, Red, I get it."

"It's not an act I'm just-"

"Yeah, yeah just trying to be a good church boy, well I got news for you, taking down twenty men isn't generally approved by God so you may want to rethink your morals."

"My morals aren't the problem, what I'm doing is helping the city, stopping innocent people being hurt. I'm saving lives. You're taking them."

Frank stands up and Matt, instinctively, follows. He clenches his fists beside him and wishes they were still up on that roof where the wind was loud enough to mask the sound of Frank's even breathing.

"I don't need you to tell me what I'm doing," Frank snarls and Matt feels possessed as he takes a step forward.

"No, you don't. What you need, is to be stopped," He says. Frank moves faster than he anticipated, fisting a hand in the front of his suit and driving him backwards until he hits the wall where he presses him against it with both hands on his shoulders. Matt grabs at his wrists but Frank has the upper hand. 

"You don't get to tell me what I can and cannot do, you hear me?" Frank's crowding him closer to the wall with his whole body, caging him in with his hips, and his feet either side of Matt's. "You don't get to tell me how to live my life." 

"You think because you lost someone you get to go around killing whoever you feel like? You ever stop to think that there are plenty of other people who find normal, sane coping mechanisms? Or did that thought never even cross your close-minded brain?"

Frank punches him. Left cheekbone, crunching the edge of the mask painfully into his cheek. It'll bruise, maybe even bleed, but that's really nothing new. Matt lets his lips spread and laughs. 

"You're losing touch already," He grits out and he feels like a live-wire, feels vicious and wild. Frank goes to punch him again, a trajectory that would've given him an impressive split lip but Matt's ready this time and he grabs his hands and flips them round. 

Frank ducks out of his hold though and they start properly trading punches, kicks, headbutts, fighting dirty and without mercy. A blow to his chest aggravates a still healing rib but he retaliates by grabbing the fist and yanking Frank off balance, and gives him an elbow to the spine. 

A kick to the knee gets Frank on the floor but not before his hand shoots out and drags Matt down too. They fall ungracefully, both trying to get the upper hand and Matt dodges a fist to the nose as he braces himself above Frank. 

Matt gets a hand around his throat and a forearm across his chest and presses down hard.

"Well this is new," Frank chokes out and suddenly it's like he's lit a fuse. Frank grins at him and his teeth are bloody and there's a bruise spreading across his cheekbone. Matt's hand tightens.

"You keep doing that and you're gonna get a lot more than you bargained for," Frank sounds breathless this time and Matt wonders if it's because of the hand on his throat or something else entirely. Or maybe it's both. 

"Yeah?" Matt says finally and it sounds like a challenge. Frank hooks a heel in the back of Matt's knee and flips them over, not caring to soften the fall as Matt lands heavily on his back. 

He's lost the upper hand again, with Frank's body pressing him into the floorboards, knees digging into his waist and hands either side of his head. He knows he could get out, easily, but there's something about the way Frank bares his teeth that makes him want to stay. 

"Okay, altar boy," Frank says, low and rough, and Matt feels his breath on his throat. That feeling is replaced by a hand, gripping his jaw hard enough to be painful.

"What do you want, Frank?" He spits out. "You want to kill me too? Or am I not your type." 

He can hear the way Frank's teeth meet when he grins. 

"Oh, Red, you are entirely my type. The question that remains, is am I yours?"

Matt swallows. He feels on fire, he feels electric, he feels the way Frank's heart beat punctuates the silence and he wonders if his own is doing the same. Slowly, so as not to disturb the hand on his face, he nods. The hand shifts, fingers tracing over his mouth, smearing blood from his split lip onto his cheek. 

"You know what, Red?" Frank says, leaning in close enough that his nose brushes Matt's, "I really fucking hate you, but the things I want to do to you don't even come close."

Matt lets his mouth fall open into a grin that feels more like a baring of teeth. 

"Then do it."

Frank kisses him hard, teeth clashing, and it tastes of copper and old smoke and Matt, despite himself, presses back equally hard. They kiss the way they fight and it's brutal and Matt loves it. Fingers dig into Frank's sides hard enough to bruise and Frank bites down harder on his lip; a well placed kick to the shin makes the knee against his hip press in deeper, sure to leave an imprint.

Matt manages to wrestle an arm up enough to grab a fistful of Frank's hair and pulls sharply on it. Frank grins against his lips.

"That's more like it, Red."

Matt pulls again, gripping his fingers tighter, wanting Frank to shut up, or keep talking, or give him more, more touch, more friction, more anything. Frank grinds his hips down and Matt can't hold back the groan that escapes his throat when the sharp jut of Frank's hipbone presses against his cock. 

"Christ, look at you. You're desperate," Frank sounds breathless and Matt wonders if he sounds equally as bad, needy and panting on the floor below him. He presses his hips up to match and the way Frank's heartbeat kicks up tells him it's working. 

"So are you," He throws back and Frank gives a throaty chuckle before sitting up, thighs still tight on Matt's hips but the air between them is cold suddenly and Matt tries not to whine at the loss of touch. 

Maybe it's a reward or maybe it's because he wants to, but Frank presses his thumbs into Matt's ribs and splays his hands over his chest. He knows what Frank's trying to get out of this so he doesn't give it to him.

"You're gonna have to try a lot harder than that," He says and the thumbs press firmer into barely healed bruises.

Frank shifts where he's spread across Matt's hips and then one of the hands is gone from his chest. He's distracted then, and it takes him longer than it should to realise that the ringing in the air is the metal of a gun and not his own ears. 

Matt stills when the gun presses against his jaw and despite himself his mouth drops open. Frank drags it up his face, pushing against the fresh bruises on his cheekbone until he hisses, tracing across his split lip until his hips are shoving up against his will.

"You get off on this, don't you?" Frank's saying, and it's all Matt can do to pay attention to what he's saying, "Is that why you do this? That why you go out and fight anything that breathes every night?" Matt swallows hard and the muzzle of the gun moves to his Adam's apple. 

Frank flips the safety at the same time as he grinds his hips down and Matt can't help the noise that drags out of his throat. 

"Good boy, Red."

The safety clicks back on and Frank slides the gun across the floor. Matt feels too big for his own skin, too breathless, too much of this, of everything. Frank seems to realise this, because he leans back in close and scrapes his teeth across Matt's neck.

"C'mon, Red, gimme something more," He says and Matt can feel the words vibrate up through his jawbone. His hands feel useless on the floor so he reaches up for something to grab onto, fitting his fingers into the divots of Frank's hips.

"I hate you," He rasps out at last. Frank grins against his throat. 

"Yeah?" Frank says even as his hand reaches down between them, finally, _finally_ giving Matt the pressure he needs. He jerks up into Frank's hand and Frank obliges, gripping him through the suit and Matt groans. 

He's been on edge, over sensitised, since the first connection of Frank's fist with his face and this just feels like a continuation of that. He allows himself to writhe beneath Frank and hooks his fingers in his belt loops to drag him closer. 

Frank's free hand presses against his shoulder, his collarbone, before finally settling around his throat. Matt opens his mouth but no sound comes out. 

"That's right, Red, come on," Frank murmurs, biting down on Matt's lip and that's what sends him over the edge. He comes with a gasp and slams his head back against the floor so hard he feels dizzy. 

Frank sits up again but keeps one hand on Matt's throat as he palms himself through his trousers. Matt wants to help, to touch, to do something, but Frank pushes back his every movement.

"You just stay there, Red. You're not a sight for sore eyes, I can tell you that." 

Matt wonders what he looks like in that moment, flushed and bloody and bruised and listens to the way Frank's heart beat picks up as his hand moves faster. 

"So, this is what gets you off?" He says, and the hand around his throat squeezes tighter. He grins.

"You're a lot less cocky when you're pinned down," Frank retorts but he stops talking to let his head fall back. Matt wants to talk back but another part of him wants to listen to Frank's rapid breaths and the way his lips keep coming together as if he's about to say something.

Frank comes with a bitten off moan and a shudder that racks through Matt's body like an earthquake. His heart rate slows and his hand leaves Matt's throat. He wonders if it'll bruise. 

Frank stands up and Matt follows on weak knees, his face only now starting to hurt from the blows earlier.

"Thanks for that," Frank says and Matt laughs harshly.

"Yeah, anytime," He says and he'd meant to sound sarcastic but somehow it comes out sounding hopeful. He bites his tongue. There's a pause and the air feels tight between them. 

"Don't make promises you can't keep," Frank says, and Matt hears the scrape of the window opening, grating against the otherwise quiet night. Frank climbs out without a word and Matt follows him with his ears until he reaches the rooftop.

"See you around, Red."


End file.
